D’Averc raised his eyebrows. “So! You heard me breathing heavily, eh? I tried to keep as quiet as possible, but this cold of minecontracted since coming aboardis giving me a certain amount of difficulty.” He raised a tiny square of linen to the tip of his nose.

D’Averc was dressed in silk, with a loose blue shirt, flowing scarlet breeks, a heavy broad leather belt supporting his sword and a dirk. Around his bronzed throat was wound a long scarf of purple and his long hair was held back by a band matching his breeks. His fine, almost ascetic features, bore their usual sardonic expression.

“Did I hear aright below?” D’Averc asked. “Were you instructing the bosun to head for Europe?”

“I was.”

“So you still intend to try to reach Castle Brass and forget what the Warrior in Jet and Gold said of your destinythat it was to take that blade there,” D’Averc pointed to the great red broadsword at Hawkmoon’s side, “to Dnark, thus serving the Runestaff?”

“I owe allegiance to myself and my kin before I will serve an artefact in whose existence I gravely doubt.”

“You would not have believed before in the powers of

the Sword of the Dawn,” D’Averc remarked wryly, “yet you saw it summon warriors from thin air to save our lives.”

An obstinate look passed over Hawkmoon’s features. “Aye,” he agreed reluctantly. “But I still intend to return to Castle Brass, if that is possible.”

“There’s no telling if it’s in this dimension or another.”

“I can only hope that it is in this dimension.” Hawkmoon spoke with finality, showing his unwillingness to discuss the matter further. D’Averc raised his eyebrows for a second time, then descended to the deck and strolled along it whistling.

For five days they sailed on through the calm ocean, every sail unfurled to give them maximum speed.

On the sixth day the bosun came up to Hawkmoon, who was standing in the prow of the ship, and pointed ahead.

“See the dark sky on the horizon, sir. We’re heading straight for a storm.”

Hawkmoon peered in the direction the bosun indicated. “A storm, you say. Yet it has a peculiar look to it.”

“Aye, sir. Shall I reef the sails?”

“No, bosun. We sail on until we have a better idea of what we are heading into.”

“As you say, sir.” The bosun walked back down the deck, shaking his head.